Maybe He's Not Crazy
by Weirdo98
Summary: One-shot. This is my first fanfic on this website. I hope you like it. This is the truth about how Never Land was created. M for a reason.


**Maybe He's Not Crazy**

AN: So this is my first fanfiction I've done in a while. It is my first on this website. I appreciate constructive criticism, but, please, do not be too harsh. I hope you enjoy (Rated M)

The young boy happily travelled down the abandoned streets of his quiet town. This was not the first time he had left home by himself, but the first time his parents were ignorant of his whereabouts. The dark sky allowed the stars to shine bright above this carefree mind. He made a sudden move; as if he had just stabbed a pirate in the chest. He smiled and proudly exclaimed, "Take that you filthy fiend!" Wiping the blood from his imaginary sword, this boy continued on his midnight walk.

Not too far off, a man, well into his mid-forties, strolled home with two bags of groceries. He silently cursed as one bag crashed to the ground. This man was forced to shop at nighttime due to his awfully true reputation. Anytime he even dared to stick his head out for a breath of fresh air, he was treated rather poorly. Men would shout foul language, mothers would hurriedly call their children inside, and their children would shoot this man nasty looks before running to their worried mothers. Presently, the man sadly stared down at the nub where his hand should have been. No one can really remember how he lost it, not even himself. He blamed a forgotten night of too much whiskey and left it at that.

The little boy awoke from his day dream when he heard the slight commotion up ahead. Running to help this stranger, the boy imagined himself as a hero about to save the day. "Let me help you with that, sir." The boy picked up the fallen possessions. "Why thank you, kind boy." An evil voice broke through the night air. The boy froze when he noticed the man's missing hand.

"Never go near that man. He is known for hurting little boys like you." A fatherly voice bounced around in the boy's head.

The man noted the boy's hesitation. "If you would like, I have something waiting for you at my little home. You could help me with my bag and I will be happy to reward you." The man said quickly, not ready to lose his prey. The word "reward" was always a positive thing, the boy had learned throughout his few years of existence. "Why sure, sir. I'd be happy to help." He answered. "I'm not do fond of this 'sir' name. My real name is Jeffery Hook so just call me Mr. Hook. What's your name?" Mr. Hook questioned. "My name's Peter Pan. I live just a bit down thata way." Peter said, pointing the opposite way they were walking. Mr. Hook's grin grew.

Peter was suddenly overwhelmed with fright when he entered Mr. Hook's forbidden house. There was a bad feeling in the air and Peter's father's voice returned, even louder this time. Mr. Hook silently locked the door behind him. "Set that bag wherever you like. I'll return momentarily with your reward." He grinned and disappeared into the next room.

"Run, Peter, run!" a small voice rang in his head. He had always been fond of this certain voice. It sounded like a girl, but had a hint of bells behind it. She was rather rude sometimes, but was always there for him. They had grown quite friendly over the years.

"But, what about the reward? What if it's something amazing? Like… Like a pirate sword!" Peter whispered. "Too late now." The voice sighed as Mr. Hook's footsteps drew closer. An unknown object was held behind Mr. Hook's back. "I apologize for not having much that a child would like around here, but I managed to come across this." Mr. Hook's awful smile grew scarier as he revealed Peter's reward. A small stuff animal. It resembled a crocodile. Nothing too amazing to Peter, but he smiled and gave his thanks anyway.

"I have one more, if you would like. Just follow me to my bedroom. It won't take long." Mr. Hook offered. "Get out of here NOW!" small bells screamed. "N-no thanks, mister. I-I gotta go." Peter stumbled towards the door only to find it tightly locked. "Come now, Peter. Let me show you." Mr. Hook grabbed Peter's arm in a bruising grip, dragging the boy into his bedroom. "No! Let me go! I need to go home! Release me!" Peter screamed as loud as he possibly could. However, as Mr. Hook was tying Peter's second leg to the bed, his screams turned more into pleading.

Mr. Hook finally finished tying Peter to his bed and removed both of their clothing. He took a moment to appreciate the scene before him. A small, innocent boy lay before him, naked. His cheeks were slightly pink and covered with tears. The boy had recently fallen silent and had given up on fighting back. The man's sick fantasy had, once again, became a reality.

"Oh you're so beautiful, Peter. This may hurt a little, but it's my turn for a reward." Mr. Hook smiled as his index finger lazily moved down Peter's chest; heading towards his small crouch. "So small… So precious… So… Perfect." He greedily smiled and went down for a lick.

Peter was trying to escape from this cruel world and enter another. The bell like voice led him towards a beautiful land. It was full of trees, adventures, and mythical creatures. "We can live here forever." The voice said.

"Don't you want to grow up, my dear Peter? Want to be a big boy? Well, I'm going to make you into a man." Mr. Hook's voice rudely interrupted. A sudden sharp pain in Peter's bum caused him to scream in pain. More tears slide down his sad face as the foreign pain continued. Peter desperately fled back to this wonderful land.

Only a short time had passed when a hot liquid filled Peter's insides. A loud noise broke through Hook's cruel lips and he fell upon Peter's nude body. Slowly, he removed himself from his latest victim and stared lovingly below at him. "How did it feel, my sweet Peter? However.. I feel like I forgot something. Ah, of course, a simple kiss; Silly me." Mr. Hook eagerly leaned towards Peter. Feeling completely disgusted, Peter spit right on Mr. Hook's face. Hook instantly pulled back and dramatically whipped the spit from his ugly face. "You little brat!" he screamed and began to pound onto Peter's stomach. He drew a knife he always kept close by (simply because he was such a paranoid man) and began to cut Peter, deeply. Ears trained to turn deaf towards screams, Hook continued his mission with ease.

After this horrid act, Mr. Hook left the room, shortly, to clean himself up. Peter, left alone, sat in silence, listening to the small ticking of an alarm clock. Turning his throbbing head to the left, his eyes rested heavily on the small stuffed animal that lay only a few feet away. Craving the need for comfort, he desperately reached for it. He used the little strength he had left and struggled as much as he could against the restraints. Hook returned to find Peter in this needy state. He simply untied the poor boy, picked him out, and threw him out the back door yelling, "You dirty whore!"

All that could be heard was Peter's struggled breaths of air. He was becoming quite tired, but tried to keep his eyes towards the sky. He fascinated himself with the twinkling stars and lightning bugs. One lightning bug, curiously, flew closer to Peter. A small bell chimed in his head as he finally allowed his eyes to close.

Peter Pan's memory was completely whipped out. All he knew was his name and the fairy that followed him around he named Tinkerbell. "You silly ass! We need to go this way!" she yelled at him as he flew the other direction. "Hold on a minute, Tink. I have a feeling about this place. Come on." He urged and flew to the upstairs window of an ordinary house. He didn't realize that he was looking into his own bedroom, from his own house. The scene before him did not affect him in the slightest, simply because he did not understand it.

A lonely figure with knotty long air seemed to be floating in the middle of the room; her head hung low in sorrow. The room was dark so Peter couldn't make out much more. "Come on, Tink. Let's go." He commanded and they continued on their way. However, if the lights were on, the scene might have scared him quite a bit more.

Although he would not be able to remember, he would at least have seen a woman in great pain. His mother had a rope tied around her neck which caused her to hang in the air. Blood was still slightly dripping from her chest as the slight breeze caused her still body to sway.

After flying for quite some time now, a beautiful and slightly familiar land unfolded before Peter's eyes. "Is this Never Land?" Peter asked as the two friends swiftly landed. "Of course it is! There is so much you need to see and do, but first, I must inform you of the most important rule." Tinkerbell excitedly said. Peter inwardly groaned at the knowledge of having rules. He did not know what this meant, but he had a feeling that it was strict and there was no way around it. "You must NEVER grow up." Tinkerbell established.

Peter quickly perked up at this. He did not understand his sudden feeling of relief, but he greatly appreciated it.

"Mr. Pan. Wake up. It's time to take your medicine." A friendly female voice drew Peter from his mind. He mumbled about his latest adventure as he swallowed each different colored pill. For the past 40 years, he has obediently taken his pills and returned to Never Land.

He **always** returned to Never Land. Although Wendy, John, and Michael had left long ago, he still had many great adventures without them. This land continued to amaze him every day. He swam with mermaids, fought pirates, and flew around with his fairy best friend.

Peter Pan never grew up. Why would he?


End file.
